


The Wait is the Hardest Part

by faithfulpenelope



Series: The Wait is the Hardest Part [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6151593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithfulpenelope/pseuds/faithfulpenelope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hikaru Sulu knows he should stay away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The day Nero attacks, and it all goes to hell, that's the first time they meet.

Sulu has heard stories about the Russian whiz kid who starts the Academy before most people are out of high school, but doesn't know it's that kid sitting next to him until he swings around and tells Pike, "Chekov, sir, Pavel Andreievich,". Then Kirk (Kirk he recognizes, because everybody knows Kirk) bursts onto the bridge and it really all goes to hell, and Sulu is free falling, Kirk yelling in his ear, and he can't help but think, he never even got a chance to introduce himself to his new navigator.

But then he hits the transported pad, still wrapped around Kirk, and who's standing there, whooping in Russian, but Chekov. His face is flushed and he's grinning like a loon, and maybe it's the extreme brush with death that's only just passed but Sulu thinks he's never seen anything cuter in his life.

Afterwards, when the Enterprise has been towed back to Earth, they all return to the Academy, to what used to be normalcy but now seems incredible inane. It's a long week until the announcement comes down: James T. Kirk, luckiest bastard in the universe, has been handed the Enterprise, and made the youngest captain in Starfleet history. Not only that, he has forced the admiralty to give him what he is now referring to as his crew – McCoy, of course, even though he's got about a dozen better offers on hard ground and the mere mention of space still makes him scowl, and Scotty, whose transwarp equation has put him back in Starfleet's good graces, Admiral Archer being the sole exception, and Uhura and Sulu and the Russian whiz kid, Chekov. They make it through graduation and the repairs to the Enterprise until they're back on the ship, and when Spock shows up to offer his services as First Officer, Kirk accepts.

Then Sulu slides back behind the conn, and Chekov takes his seat at navigation, and it all just kind of feels right.

They make it through the first shift without a major catastrophe, and then the next, and the next, and they all relax a little, and actually start doing normal, social things instead of constantly bracing themselves for impact. Sulu forms a routine, one that usually includes breakfast with Chekov, first because they are navigator and pilot and need to be on the same page, and then because they find they enjoy each other's company.

And, Sulu realizes, because it wasn't the brush with death that made him think Chekov was so cute.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It's six months later, and Chekov's back from an away mission that just barely managed to not go completely ass over tea kettle, when he shows up at Sulu's door. Sulu waves him in before noticing the pinched look n Chekov's face.

"What's wrong?"

"Today, on the away mission. When we were attacked, Commander Spock just shoved me to the side and told me to stay put because he didn't think I could do anything." Chekov lets out a frustrated huff. "Everyone thinks I'm a fragile little boy."

Sulu hates to agree but it's kind of true, the crew does tend to think of Chekov as their little brother. He is only seventeen, and his youthful appearance doesn't help. The eager eyes and curly hair. Those pursed lips trying to make out his 'v's.

Sulu has been thinking about those pursed lips a lot lately.

"You are the only one that doesn't treat me that way."

Sulu blinks, shakes the thought of anybody's lips out of his head. "Yeah, well, I spend a lot more time with you. I know you're a lot stronger than you might appear."

Chekov looks surprised, then gives a shy smile to that, and Sulu smiles back. That's the truth too, that while he may sometimes appear closer to a puppy than an officer, Chekov has nerves of steel and a brain that works so fast, he sometimes beats the computer. He's started sending over coordinates before Sulu can even give him any directions, and Sulu has stopped double-checking them, and just flies where Chekov tells him to go.

Sulu realizes the room has gone quiet, and when he looks up, Chekov's normally animated face is unreadable. He has no idea with Chekov is thinking so he says the first thing that comes to mind.

"But I could help you. You know, if you wanted. With the fighting. With training." As soon as it's out the inherent problem in his proposition becomes obvious, namely: Chekov, in close quarters. Sweaty. Writhing against him.

_Oh, shit._

There's a flicker of something in Chekov's eyes, something heady, before he grins and the baby face returns. "Da! That would be excellent, thank you."

Sulu nods, and wonders exactly he's gotten himself into.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chekov actually isn't a terrible fighter, except for the fact that he follows his Academy training down to the smallest move and is thus completely predictable.

"You have to just feel it sometimes," Sulu tells him as they gather up their things after the lesson. "Following the rulebook works for a lot of things, but not fighting."

Poor Chekov looks lost. "I follow the rulebook for everything," he admits, and Sulu chuckles, because he isn't surprised.

"Don't you do anything that doesn't require a rulebook? That doesn't require thinking?"

Chekov actually has to think about it. But then his face goes red and he shakes his head. "No, nothing."

"You thought of something."

"No, it is nothing." The flush creeps into his ears.

Now Sulu's really intrigued. "Come on, Pavel. You can tell me."

His head quirks up at Sulu's use of his first name. "I..." He rubs the back of his neck. "Kissing."

Sulu tries to keep his mouth shut, he does, but his jaw still drops a little. "Kissing," he repeats weakly. Suddenly finds his mind full of all sorts of interesting questions. Who has Chekov been kissing, and when. What else has he been doing.

Chekov looks horrified that he's even said the word. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that, I'll go -"

"No!" Sulu grabs his arm before he can run. "No, it's fine. Kissing." He swallows, tries to get some moisture back in his dry mouth. "That makes sense."

"Obviously, I think a lot," Chekov jokes. Sulu doesn't respond right away and Chekov stutters out, "because, I do not do much kissing, I have work to do -"

"Yeah, no, I get it," Sulu interrupts. "So, ah, you're telling me I have to kiss you before any future lessons?" It's out before he can censor himself, and Chekov's eyes go so wide Sulu's afraid he's gonna have to call McCoy.

_What the fuck did I just say._

"Medbay to Sulu."

Sulu has never been so happy to hear Christine Chapel's voice in his life. He fumbles in his pocket for his communicator. "Sulu here."

"Do you forget you're overdue for your physical, Lieutenant?"

He had, actually. "Yes. Sorry. I will be right there. Sulu out." Chekov's still standing there, looking a little shell-shocked, so Sulu gestures towards the door. "I gotta go - Chapel's waiting - uh, see you later?"

"Da," Chekov answers quickly. "Yes, of course."

Sulu tries to smile normally and takes off down the hall for Medbay. The turbolift doors slid shut behind him and he buries his head in his head and groans.

_Fuck. Real smooth, Hikaru._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sulu takes his dinner in his quarters that night, and his breakfast the next morning. When he gets to the bridge, Chekov is already there. He looks up when he hears Sulu pass and Sulu swears he sees confusion, and hurt, and maybe something else in his eyes. But all he says is, "good morning, Lieutenant."

"Morning." He takes his seat at the conn and before he can even get settled Chekov's coordinates pop up on his screen. He glances over to his right but Chekov's focused on his console.

Behind them, Kirk glances to his right. McCoy raises an eyebrow in response.

"Everything all right, gentlemen?"

"Yes, sir," they both say at the same time, and it breaks the tension a little. Sulu hazards another glance and sees Chekov smiling the tiniest bit.

"In that case, Dr. McCoy and I will be in my ready room. Lieutenant, you have the conn."

"Yes, sir," Sulu says, and when Kirk and McCoy are gone, he takes a quick look around behind him to make sure everyone else is focused on their own stations, then turns back to Chekov. "Hey."

Chekov looks up from his calculations. "Hi."

"Listen, about yesterday -" He doesn't know what he's going to say about yesterday.

"You were joking," Chekov says quickly. "I know you were making a joke. It's fine."

_Actually, I wasn't,_ Sulu wants to say, but just clears his throat instead. "So, we're - we're okay then?"

"Of course." Chekov's voice is steady but his smile doesn't reach his eyes. Then Spock calls Chekov over to his station, and that's the end of the conversation.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Spock's still working with Chekov when the shift ends, so Sulu surrenders his seat to McKenna and heads back to his quarters alone. It feels wrong without Chekov chattering beside him, walking him to his quarters like a high school date before continuing on to his own quarters four doors down. He keys in his code and walks in, flopping down on the couch with a pathetic sigh.

How could he have fucked this up so spectacularly.

Sulu's no Casanova, but he's got pretty good game, and his bed hadn't exactly been lonely at the Academy. He had always preferred a straight forward approach: you like someone, you tell them so, and go from there. His partners seemed to appreciate it, that he didn't play games, and even after it was over he'd ended up on good terms with most of them.

And then Chekov came along.

Sweet, smart Pavel, all enthusiasm and faith and light. Sulu loves the stars, he does, but when Pavel looks out into the universe it's something else, a wonder that Sulu feels like he lost a long time ago, if he ever had it at all. People mistake it for a childish innocence but Sulu knows it's something else, a deeper appreciation for the mechanics of it all. It was on the observation deck that Sulu first realized just how bad he had it, when he walked in on Pavel gazing out the window in rapture and Sulu had to fold his arms against his chest to keep from reaching out and grabbing him and kissing him senseless.

Because he can't. He shouldn't. Not with Pavel, who may be brilliant but is still only seventeen. Sulu's just 23 but he feels like a lecherous old man when he's in bed in the dark and he starts thinking about what he would do to Pavel, if he just let him.

He shakes his head. He can't start thinking about that. He needs a distraction, so he pushes up off the couch. He'll go to the botany bay, work with his plants until he can breathe a little better. His doors slide open, and he steps out.

And directly into Chekov.

"Oh shit -"

"I'm sorry -"

Sulu stumbles but Chekov grabs his arm before he can fall, and Sulu just bumps the wall instead. He looks down to where Chekov's hand wraps around his elbow and Chekov yanks the hand away. "I'm sorry," he says quickly.

"Were you waiting outside my quarters?" Sulu asks.

"Yes," Chekov responds, because the kid is almost incapable of lying. "I - I didn't know if you'd want to talk to me."

Sulu curses himself again for creating such a mess. "Of course I would. You're my friend." Chekov looks relieved but doesn't say anything, and Sulu realizes he's waiting for an invitation. "Did you - did you want to come in?"

"You look like you were leaving."

"No, it's fine. I was just going to check on my plants but it can wait." Sulu steps back into his quarters and Chekov follows, pausing directly inside the threshold. It reminds Sulu of when they first met, when Sulu had to tell him to stop calling him lieutenant and just sit down on the couch, already. "Sit, Pavel. You want a drink?"

Chekov's lip quirks up. "I do not suppose you have any vodka," he says, except he's Pavel and it comes out _wodka_ , and Sulu has to smile.

"No, sorry." His smile fades when he thinks about what Chekov's request implies. "I didn't realize you needed vodka to talk to me."

Chekov's cheeks pink up, and he looks down, suddenly shy.

"Look, Pavel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you or make you uncomfortable or whatever. It was..." He can't say it was a joke, because it wasn't. "It was stupid of me. I shouldn't have said it."

"Were you making fun of me?"

"What?" The question comes out of nowhere, and Sulu can't believe Chekov would even ask it. "No, Pavel!"

"Then why did you say it?"

"What do you mean - I told you, it just came out, it was stupid."

Chekov's eyes narrow. "You don't just say stupid things, Hikaru."

"Everyone says stupid things every once in a while."

"You don't," Chekov retorts. "I know, because I listen to everything you say. You joke, and you tell stories, but you don't just say stupid things. And you don't say things you don't mean."

Sulu feels like he's rapidly losing control of the conversation and he isn't sure how to get it back.

"So the only thing I can think of -" he's got the same tone of voice he uses when he's working on a problem with the warp core, like Sulu's a computation to be figured out - "the only thing I can think of is that you actually want to kiss me."

_Well, son of a bitch,_ Sulu thinks. _Kid's got balls._

"Is this correct?"

_BIG balls._

"I -" Sulu puts his hands on his hips, tries to figure out if he has the courage to answer the question. He doesn't, so he hedges his bets instead. "What if it is?"

Chekov swallows hard, and Sulu feels like a total ass for forcing the kid to take the lead. "This would be...a favorable outcome."

Sulu can't help it, he laughs, because that's such a Pavel thing to say. "A favorable outcome," he repeats.

Chekov nods, a sharp tilt of his head, curls bouncing. He's so tense he looks like he might burst, and Sulu wants nothing more in the world than to soothe the tension away. So, he reaches out, slowly, and cups Pavel's cheek. Chekov's eyes flutter shut, and he leans into the touch.

Sulu knows he needs to step away, now, but he can't help himself and steps closer instead, and when he runs his thumb along Chekov's lower lip, Pavel whimpers, actually _whimpers_ , his name.

It's a sound Sulu's only imagined in his dreams and it goes straight to his gut at the same time it trips what may be the last semblance of logic and responsibility left functioning in his brain, and he steps back, like he's been scalded. " _Fuck._ We can't do this. I can't do this."

Chekov's eyes bug and he's silent for a second before he lets loose a stream of invectives in Russian and English and some other languages he's probably picked up from Uhura that grows increasing loud until he's yelling so loud Sulu's pretty sure they'll hear him on the bridge. "For fuck's sake, Hikaru," he bellows, and his use of English obscenities is both shocking and disturbingly hot, "why will you not just _kiss_ me?"

"You think I don't want to?" Sulu hollers back, and if he wasn't so far gone he'd be ashamed of the desperation in his voice. "I can't, Pavel."

"Why. Not."

"You know why not. Because I'm twenty-three and you're only -"

" _Only seventeen_. God, I know." Chekov makes a furious noise. "I may be only seventeen but I know what I want!"

"It's not you I doubt, Pavel," Sulu says, because it's the truth. He would never doubt Pavel, not with his navigation, not with his life. "But you're young. Shit, according to Starfleet, you're not even a consenting adult yet!"

Chekov scoffs. "I am not a consenting adult? But I am old enough to navigate their flagship?"

It's a good point, and Sulu doesn't know why to say, so he just throws his hands up in the air.

"So if I were not _only seventeen_ , as I will be in 5 weeks - " to this Sulu perks up, because in all his mooning he's completely forgotten Chekov's birthday is in a little more than a month – "then you would kiss me?"

"Yes – no – it's more complicated than that, Pavel. Six years is a big difference when one of us is still a teenager!"

"I am not still a – okay, fine, I will be. But I'll be a teenager than started high school at 9 and Starfleet Academy at 13 so there should be some sort of, how you say…grading curve, shouldn't there?"

At that, Sulu has to laugh. "Not unless you want me to start giving you report cards, Pavel."

"I've always been an excellent test-taker," Chekov retorts with an eyebrow waggle, and Sulu has to look away as to not encourage him. "Hikaru..."

"No," Sulu says immediately, and Chekov huffs in frustration. "No. 6 years, Pavel. And I am not going to be responsible for deflowering the Enterprise's youngest crew member while he's still a minor!"

"What does it mean, deflowering – " Chekov makes an indignant noise when he figures it out on his own. "I am not a virgin, Hikaru!"

Sulu can't help it, he makes a shocked noise. "You're not?" Chekov looks pissed. "No – not that – I just assumed you were so fucking busy getting through the Academy by the time more kids learning to drive their parents' hovercars that you didn't have the time!"

"No! I have had sex!" Chekov's voice falters at the end and Sulu senses there's something more to the story. "With a woman."

Sulu waits.

"Once." Another pause. "Almost."

Sulu groans. " _Pavel_. What the hell does _almost_ mean?"

"It was – look, like you said, I was busy with other things!" His eyes narrow and he steps in Sulu's space. "You want I should go find some other people to have sex with so you do not feel so dirty with the inexperienced boy?"

Something in Sulu snaps at the thought of someone else kissing Chekov, touching him, making him fall apart, and he loses the fight for control and slams Chekov up against the closest wall. " _Fuck, no_ ," he growls, and presses his body up against Chekov's, feels his hardness against his hip. "Nobody touches you but me." He knows that’s not for him to command but Chekov's eyes go wide with desire.

" _Da, yes,_ only you," he pants, grabbing at Sulu's shirt, his neck. "Only you."

"Only me," Sulu pants back. "Okay. Fuck. Five weeks." Chekov wails out his dissent. " _No_. Pavel, we have to wait. What if Starfleet finds out? What if they transfer one of us?"

Chekov's brilliant mind obviously hadn't considered that possibility because he freezes up. " _Oh_."

"Yeah, oh."

"Okay." Chekov takes a deep breath and releases his death grip on Sulu's shirt. "Five weeks."

"Five weeks," Sulu repeats. "After five weeks if you still want this -"

"When I still want this," Chekov interrupts, and Sulu grins.

"Then we will do something about it, I promise." He strokes Chekov's face and watches as those long eyelashes flutter.

"You cannot just kiss me now?" Chekov pleads. "Just this once?"

Sulu drops his hand. "I can't, Pavel, I really can't, because if I do, there's no way I'm going to be able to stop myself."

"I…" Chekov sighs. "Five weeks."

"We can do it," Sulu assures him.

"I know we can," Chekov says, and a twinkle sparks in his eye. "I think I shall rather like opening my birthday present this year."

Sulu grins. "I'll make sure of it."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sulu doesn't know what else to do, so he shoves Chekov out of his quarters, tells him go home and take a cold shower, to which Chekov just grins, and then jumps in his own shower and jerks off, coming harder than he can ever remember at the thought of Chekov doing the same thing.

Chekov's not at breakfast the next morning, and he's not on the bridge early, which worries Sulu until Pavel scampers in with just seconds before his shift is supposed to start, his curls still damp from the shower.

"Running late, Ensign?" Kirk asks.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. I…spilled my breakfast and had to change," Chekov stutters. Then he shoots Sulu a side eye and Sulu realizes it wasn't breakfast that got Chekov's uniform so dirty, and he makes a little eep sound, and has to cough to cover it up.

_Shit._

Chekov's coordinates pop up his console and he is grateful for the distraction. Then another message pops up.

_36 days._

_That little bastard,_ Sulu thinks.

He hazards a glance at Chekov, who is watching him out of the corner of his eye with a tiny smile. Sulu makes a face that he hopes reads as, _cut it out_ , but must come off as constipated because Chekov just snickers.

"Lieutenant?" Kirk's voice breaks in. "Planning on taking us anywhere anytime soon?"

SHIT. "Yes, sir," he barks, and sets course.

36 days. He can do it.

At least he hopes he can.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chekov doesn't make it easy, with his daily reminders and sly looks, but Sulu manages to not manhandle him into the closest Jefferies tube and have his way with him. A week goes by, then two, and suddenly Chekov's reminders are in the single digits, and Sulu realizes, it's not far that Chekov's having all the fun.

So he beats Chekov to the bridge, and is already settled by the time Chekov sits. "You missed breakfast," he says, but before he can question Sulu further his console lights up, right by his hand.

_5 days._

His eyebrow quirks, and the console blinks again.

_5 days until I can kiss you._

Chekov isn't as smooth as Sulu and he can't cover up the surprised noise he makes. Sulu tucks his head and tries to fight back his grin.

"Ensign?" McCoy is there, as is normal for first thing in the morning, and he zeroes in on Chekov's apparent distress.

"I'm fine," Chekov squeaks, and frantically clears Sulu's messages.

"You look a little piqued." McCoy goes to lay his hand on Chekov's forehead. "You running a fever?"

"Nyet - no!" Chekov ducks McCoy's hand. "No, thank you, doctor." He's flustered so it comes out zhank you, and Sulu almost feels a little bad. "I am fine."

McCoy eyes him suspiciously, then glances at Sulu, who gives an innocent shrug of his shoulders. "All right. You see me if anything changes."

"Yes, sir."

McCoy returns to his conversation with Kirk and Chekov glares at Sulu, who just grins back. Then a message pops up.

_It is on._

Sulu blinks.

"You better not be getting sick, Pavel. It would be shame for you to miss your own party." Kirk clasps Chekov's shoulder and Chekov jumps.

"Sir, as I said before, you do not have to throw me a party."

"Nonsense!" Kirk booms. "You only turn eighteen once, Ensign."

"Says the man who claimed his twenty-first birthday three years in a row," McCoy points out. Uhura snickers behind him and Kirk glares at them both and mumbles something about insubordination before turning back to Chekov.

"Come on, Chekov. It's gonna be awesome. And good for crew morale!"

"Well, in that case, I will not object," Chekov says wryly, and Kirk laughs, and the conversation turns to how much exactly they can get away with before Spock turns them all in to headquarters.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

But Chekov apparently hasn't forgotten his challenge, because Sulu's communicator chimes as he's watering his favorite orchids, and the message makes him almost flood the pot.

_4 days until I can touch you._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He gets Chekov back the next morning, when Chekov makes the mistake of checking Sulu's message in the line of the mess hall – _3 days until I get you in my bed_ – and drops his tray all over Cupcake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sulu's not even out of his quarters the next day before his communicator chimes, and he at least has the sense to put down his morning tea before he checks it.

_2 days until I can taste you_.

Chekov has never looked more satisfied then when Sulu is late getting to the bridge.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

And he's never looked more let down than when there's no message for him in the morning, or at lunch, or after his run. Sulu plays it cool, and waits until around 2200 to pick up his communicator.

_Do you have any idea what I'll be doing to you tomorrow night at this time?_

He's a little disappointed he isn't there to see Chekov's reaction. The cheeks pinking up. Perfect lips forming a surprised 'o'.

The communicator pings. _I can only hope._ Then there's a pause before, _you could describe it to me_.

Sulu smiles. _Nice try_. He bites his lip, then sends another message.

_I love that I'm going to be the first one to touch you like this._

The response is almost immediate. _I'm coming to your quarters. Now._

_NO. You've got 24 hours to go._ He half-expects to hear the door anyway, but only the communicator pings.

_NOT. FAIR. HIKARU. I will be there first thing then._

_Bridge duty,_ Sulu sends back. _And then there's your party…_

He can hear Chekov's frustrated _ah!_ in his mind. _That party! I told the captain, it is not necessary. If I tell him the truth, do you think he will cancel?_

Sulu laughs, because if anyone would cancel a party on account of someone trying to get laid, it would probably be Jim Kirk. _No cancelling. We'll celebrate after. Now go to sleep, we don't want you falling asleep at your station._

_SLEEP! How am I supposed to sleep now?_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The party is, as Kirk had promised, awesome. There's dancing and drinks – Spock's eyebrow almost flies off his head when Scotty hands Chekov a shot, but Uhura's there to lay a soothing hand on his arm – and a message from Chekov's parents, who are every bit as hale and hearty and Russian as their son. Chekov dances with Uhura and Rand and Chapel and some ensign from Engineering that's a little too handsy for Sulu's taste before he makes his way back and sits heavily in the open chair next to Sulu. He’s sweaty from the exertion and Scotty slides a drink his way. "Zhank you, Meester Scott," Chekov says, and giggles at his own accent.

McCoy rolls his eyes and wags a finger in his direction. "You better enjoy it, because it's your last one. I'm cutting you off, kid."

Chekov makes an offended noise. Kirk laughs. "Listen to him, Pavel. He knows from what he speaks."

"Ah, maybe you are right," Chekov proclaims. "In fact…" he sways dangerous, bumping into Sulu, "in fact, maybe I should pass on this one as well."

Sulu's eyes narrow. Chekov’s barely had anything to drink – Sulu knows, he’s been watching, because he doesn’t want anything interfering with his plans – and besides, Pavel may be small but he can drink most of them under the table. (“I’m Russian, Hikaru. They put _wodka_ in my baby bottle.”)

"I think, maybe, I should return to my quarters, yes?" Chekov continues. He turns an innocent gaze to Sulu. "Lieutenant, you _vill_ help me?"

The _vill_ is a dead giveaway, because v's may confound him but Chekov's never had problems with his w's. _You sneaky little bastard_ , Sulu thinks, but just says, "Sure."

There's a chorus of goodbyes and happy birthdays as Sulu grabs Chekov's arm and hoists it over his shoulder, and they stumble out into the hall. Chekov keeps up the act until the turbolift doors close and he slides over to press up against Sulu.

"That was good, no?" he says, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

"You are very crafty," Sulu praises as the doors open, and Chekov grins. "Now come on." He drags him into his quarters, stopping him right inside the door. "Stay here," he murmurs, and quickly goes around his desk to type out a few commands. The lights dim, and soft music starts to play.

"You have put thought into this," Chekov teases.

"It's the only thing I've thought about for the last month," Sulu admits, unashamed. "I've been so distracted, I still can't believe I didn't fly us into an asteroid." He approaches Chekov slowly, and takes his hand, only to find it's shaking. "Pavel. You're nervous?"

"I –" Chekov ducks his head. "I want this so much, Hikaru. But I fear, how you say - my bravado is abandoning me."

"Hey." He draws Chekov in and just holds him for a minute. Chekov's arms come up around his shoulders. "It's just me. It's always been just me."

Sulu feels Chekov's smile against his neck. "You've never been _just_ anything, Hikaru."

_God,_ Sulu thinks, what ever made him think he could resist this. He runs his hands through light curls, then tugs Chekov's head up.

"We're gonna go slow," Hiraku says quietly. "You've never done this, and that's fine, but I don't want to overwhelm you."

Chekov nods. "I trust you," he whispers, and Sulu thinks his heart just might explode.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he murmurs, and Pavel just smiles. Sulu's true to his word and starts slow, soft, closed-mouth kisses for as long as he can stand it, before he gives in and gently tugs at Pavel's lower lip. Chekov gasps and the arms around Sulu's next pull even tighter. Sulu strokes the curls under his fingers, angles Chekov's head a little bit more, and licks across his lips, and Chekov opens up instantly with a moan. Sulu doesn't know how long they stay like that, kissing, hands stroking, before he pulls away, needing more.

Pavel looks dazed and needy and so damn sexy, and Sulu has to steal another kiss before he can talk. "Pavel." His hand sneaks up under the hem of Chekov's shirt and strokes, and Chekov makes a soft noise. Sulu tugs at his shirt. "I want to take this off."

"Yes," Chekov whispers. "Yes. Yours, too." Sulu nods.

"Yeah." He doesn't want Chekov to be scared so he goes first, hooking the edge of his shirts and pulling them off both at once. Chekov hesitates for a moment, then runs his hands down Sulu's chest and murmurs something in Russian. "Beautiful," he explains when Sulu gives him a look. "Can I -"

"You can do whatever you want," Sulu says, amused, but still gasps when Chekov kisses his bare shoulder, his neck, warm, open-mouthed kisses that makes Sulu's head swim. "Off," he says, pulling at Chekov's shirts, and helps Chekov out of his layers. Chekov's skinny but strong, and his muscles flutter as Sulu runs his hands up his flat stomach and over his pecs. Then Sulu rubs a thumb over a nipple. Chekov's eyes flutter shut and his breath quickens.

"You okay?"

Chekov nods, a little frantically. "Don't stop, Hikaru. Please."

"Never, Pavel." He kisses down Chekov's jaw, down his neck, nudges his chin up and mouths against his Adam’s apple. Then he ducks down and takes a nipple in his mouth and Chekov jumps and yells something in Russian. Sulu laughs.

"You know I love hearing you speak Russian, Pavel, but English please." He nips at Chekov's lip. "I want to understand what you're saying. I want to know how I'm making you feel."

Pavel makes a pained noise but nods. "Okay, yes. I will try." Sulu dips back down, the other side this time, and Chekov can't help it, he can't think enough to translate what he's saying at first, before he gasps out, "sorry, English, is good, Hikaru, that is good," and Sulu grins.

"That's better," he says, and slides his tongue down Chekov's side and sucks at his abs. Chekov's knees buckle a little and he has to grab the wall to keep from tipping as he moans, and Sulu takes advantage of the opening. "How about we..." He nods his head towards the bed.

Chekov's eyes go wide, and Sulu worries he's pushed too far. "Or we could keep doing this -"

"No!" It comes out in a yell and Chekov looks just as surprised as Sulu by it. "Sorry, no, I want to, I just...I still cannot believe this is happening." He pulls Sulu closer and kisses him with the same singular focus he applies to his work, and Sulu can't help but feel a little irrational jealousy of the warp core for getting this kind of attention all the time. Then Chekov pulls back and whispers in his ear, " _take me to bed, Hikaru_ ," and this time it's Sulu's knees that are threatening to give way.

" _Oh, fuck_ ," Sulu moans, and Chekov's eyes cloud up in excitement and lust and what can only be described as victory. Emboldened, he grabs Sulu's hips and pulls them against his own.

"Do you feel what you do to me?" he growls, and Sulu gasps. _So much for going slow_ , he thinks, and grabs Chekov's ass, eliciting a sharp squeal.

"You keep doing that," he threatens, "and we're not gonna make it to the bed."

Chekov can't answer but to moan, and Sulu takes back the momentum and walks them over to the bed, shoving Chekov down. "Lie back," he commands, and Chekov leans back on his elbows. Sulu reaches down and yanks off his boot and socks, then does the same to Chekov. "Get in the middle of the bed."

Chekov's breath quickens and he scrambles backward on his elbows as Sulu crawls up over him and straddles his hips. Cants his own hips forward.

Chekov whimpers, and bites his lip.

Sulu leans down, pulls the lip out with his own teeth, and kisses him. All gentleness is gone as he forces Chekov's mouth open and sucks his tongue. Chekov gives back as good as he gets, his hands in Sulu's hair, hips and legs undulating under Sulu's. " _Please_ ," he gasps. "Please, Hikaru."

Sulu bites his neck, his shoulder, then laves at the spots with his tongue. "Tell me what you want."

"I need you - _ai, Hikaru_ \- I need you to touch me. Please."

Sulu forces himself up. "You're sure?" he asks, because the only thing more unbearable than not touching Chekov is pushing too far, hurting him. Chekov thrusts his hips, and Sulu lifts up to break contact. Chekov whines, but stills, understanding Sulu's hesitation.

"Yes," he says, and strokes Sulu's cheek. "Yes, Hikaru, I am sure. I promise you."

Sulu swallows. "Okay. Okay, good." He kisses Chekov again, slower, more gently. "I want to make you feel good."

"Ah," Chekov smiles, "you have already done that, just by being near me," and Sulu has to shake his head at the feeling in his heart.

"Lay back," he says, and Chekov complies. Sulu slides down the bed until he is sitting on his heels between Chekov's legs, and reaches up to run his fingers just under the waistband of Chekov's pants. Chekov makes a strange noise, and Sulu realizes he's holding his breath. "Breathe, Pavel," he teases gently. "Or you're going to pass out before we get to the good parts."

Chekov exhales with a weak laugh and nods. "Good, Pavel," Sulu says, and pops open the button on Chekov's pants. He hazards a glance up to see Chekov has his eyes closed, breathing very deliberately, and Sulu has to duck his head to hide his laugh. Then he hooks his fingers around Chekov's waistband and pulls off his pants and boxer-briefs - Starfleet regulation, he notes with a grin, same as his - before coming to stand at the bottom of the bed.

"Pavel, open your eyes," he whispers, and Chekov does. "You're beautiful like this," Sulu tells him, running his hands up the strong runner's legs. Chekov blushes, and Sulu notes with great interest that the blush goes down his neck, across his chest. He places his knee on the end of the bed to climb back up but Chekov leans up and stops him with a hand of his chest.

"No," he says, voice raspy. "Not until you take yours off."

Sulu grins, predatory, and nods. Chekov lays back down, eyes heavy, and watches as Sulu strips off his own remaining clothes and tosses them to the floor. Chekov mutters something in Russian before switching back to English. "Fuck, Hikaru, get up here now."

"Yes, sir," Sulu tosses off, and Chekov laughs.

"You are lucky I am not captain," he says. "I would abuse my authority horribly with you."

"And I would obey your every command," Sulu replies, and when Chekov shivers, Sulu makes a note to explore that particular kink later. "But in the meantime..." He crawls up the bed, coming to lie down alongside Chekov. He slides a leg in between Chekov's, and he gasps at the pressure, so Sulu does it again. Chekov’s eyes are closed, his breathing quick, and Sulu just watches him for a moment before he licks at the shell of Chekov's ear, and whispers, "I'm going to touch you now." Chekov moans, nods, and his curls brush against Sulu's face. Sulu breathes deep, smelling soap and the Enterprise and Pavel.

Sulu ghosts his hand down the smooth chest, against the taunt thigh before lightly grasping Chekov's erection. Chekov's eyes fly open and his mouth opens in a silent moan, and Sulu has to stop himself from stroking himself. He wants to concentrate on Chekov, on his face, on the noises he makes as Sulu strokes, slow at the first, then faster and firmer, and plies him with kisses, to his lips, face, neck.

Chekov arches up, a streaming babble of Russian and English pouring out, before gasping out Sulu's name and coming hard, and Sulu thinks he's never seen anything more beautiful.

" _Fuck_ , Pavel," he moans, and he can't help it, he has to touch himself, because he wants it to be about Pavel but he's so hard it hurts.

"No, Hikaru, wait -" and then Sulu's on his back and Chekov is kissing him and shoving his hand off so Chekov can stroke him, his grip surprisingly sure. Afterwards, Sulu feels he should be embarrassed by how fast he comes but he isn't, not when it feels so fucking good and Chekov looks so pleased with himself.

When he can speak again, which is some time, between fighting to get his breath back and being kissed by Chekov, Sulu murmurs, "Jesus, Pavel. And here I thought I was going to be teaching you." Chekov laughs.

"No need for a curve?" he teases, and Sulu has to kiss him.

"No curve. A+, all by yourself."

"Ah, thank you, professor." Chekov’s eyes twinkle, and Sulu really makes a note to explore that particular kink later. Then he grins and flips Chekov without warning, climbing on top of him and pinning him to the bed.

“Oof!” Chekov squeaks.

“I wouldn’t get so _cocky_ ,” Sulu warns, pressing his hips down, moaning when Chekov whimpers and spreads his legs wider, one foot wrapping around his calf. “We have quite a few more lessons to go.”

“Yes,” Chekov gasps out, his hand clawing at Sulu’s back, his ass. “I want it all. I want to feel everything with you.” All of Sulu’s arrogance dissolves at Chekov’s words, and he grabs at Chekov’s hair and kisses him, thrusting his tongue in Chekov’s mouth in time with his hips until they’re both coming again, not as hard but just as satisfying. Sulu collapses down on top of Chekov, panting, and Chekov gives a very satiated sigh, his hands coming to rest in Sulu’s thick hair.

“Pavel?”

“Hmmmm?”

Sulu lifts his head up. “Happy birthday, baby.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A few decks away, in a significantly larger set of quarters, Jim Kirk laughs to himself.

The bed shifts as McCoy turns his head. "Damn it, Jim, I was almost asleep. What the hell are you laughing at?"

_"Lieutenant, you vill help me?_ " Jim echoes in an exaggerated voice, and McCoy chuckles.

"Bless his little Russian heart, he thought he was being so coy."

"Ah, they're worried it'll be frowned upon. It's cute."

"They're worried because up until tonight, it was illegal."

"Relax, Bones." Kirk grins. "Sulu was a gentleman. Tonight was their first night together and from what I can tell, Chekov's first night, period."

McCoy shoves himself up on his elbows. "And how in the hell do you know that?"

"Remember a few weeks ago, when I saw they were comming each other more than usual? I may have hacked their communicators."

"Jim!"

"I had to!" Jim protests. "I can't have my crew keeping secrets from me!"

"You're worried about secrets?" McCoy retorts, and gestures between the two of them.

"Bones, we are the worst kept secret in the fleet, even you have to know that. When was the last time you slept in your quarters?"

"I sleep there," McCoy grouses. Jim chuckles, and kisses his shoulder.

"Yeah, when I have to drag you out of Medbay and you're too tired to make it back here." He strokes along McCoy's bare back.

"Jim? The communicators?"

"Hmmm – oh, yeah. So 36 days ago, they start a countdown. To today."

"No."

"Mm-hmm." Jim looks so pleased with it all. "And five days ago? It got dirty."

McCoy's jaw drops open.

"Trust me, Bones." Kirk lays back down on his pillow. "Pavel Chekov became a man today, in more ways than one."

"Well, shit. Good for him."

"Now that they're sleeping together, maybe they'll stop being so squirrelly on the bridge."

"Speaking of sleep…" McCoy pulls the blankets up to his chin. "Why don't you try it. We all have to be on duty in 6 hours."

"Not them. I gave them both the day off." McCoy can practically hear Jim's grin in the dark. "Happy birthday, Mr. Chekov."


	2. What Happens After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pavel's had a little too much time to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I guess I wasn't as finished as I thought I was.

McCoy should have known better than to get comfortable.

It had been a quiet week, a quiet few weeks actually, in the Medbay and aboard the Enterprise as a whole. It had been a solid month since someone had tried to blast them into a million pieces, and the last attempt had been feeble at best, a lone freighter with a captain so drunk Kirk had actually had to spin his chair away from the view screen to hide his laughter. Bones couldn’t even remember the last time Kirk had been in the Medbay for an actual _medical_ emergency, not that the captain didn’t continue to torture him for other reasons.

Yes, McCoy definitely should have known better.

He hears the Medbay doors open, but he’s in the middle of an inventory check and M’Benga is on duty, so he doesn’t bother to investigate. Then he hears someone clear their throat.

“What is it, Geoff?” he asks, not looking up from his PADD.

“Oh, no, it is not Dr. M’Benga,” and Bones looks up in surprise at the Russian accent.

“Ensign Chekov?”

“Yes, sir.” The young ensign stands straight, with his hands behind his back, as if awaiting inspection. “I am sorry to interrupt you.”

“Is Dr. M’Benga not out there?”

“No, he is,” Chekov assures him. “But I wanted – I was hoping to speak to you.”

McCoy stares at him. “Why would you need to speak to me about that you couldn’t discuss with him?”

“I wanted to - ” Chekov’s cheeks flush, and he withers a little under McCoy’s gaze. “Never mind. You are busy. I can come back at another time.” He turns to hurry out of the inventory room. “I am sorry to have bothered you.”

“No – Chekov, get back here,” McCoy snaps, and the young man freezes. “What’s this about?”

Chekov’s mouth opens, and shuts again.

“Are you hurt? Not feeling well?” McCoy narrows his eyes. “Did you pick up something from that weird planet with all the concubines?”

“No, Doctor!” Chekov squeaks.

“Be honest with me, kid. Trust me, you wouldn’t be the first.”

“Doctor -”

“It happens to the best of them. And when I say the best of them, I mean the captain.” On most ships that would be confidential but if Jim wants to use the story of his epic battle against Q’uarthian genital shingles as dinner table conversation, then McCoy isn’t going to keep quiet about it.

“It is not that, Doctor,” Chekov says firmly. “It is not medical. It is…personal.”

Oh, great. “Personal,” McCoy repeats. “Well, then wouldn’t you be better served by the ship’s counselor?” McCoy thinks she’s a quack, personally, with her chants and her mantras and her and _now how do you feels_ but she keeps people from crying on his desk.

“I do not need help aligning my chakras,” Chekov says dismissively, rolling his eyes, and Bones gains a little bit more respect for him right there. He huffs, and sets down his PADD.

“Fine. My office.” Chekov nods and follows him into the corner of the Medbay to the dark office McCoy has staked as his own. It’s not the CMO’s office; the CMO’s office is in the middle of the Medbay and is practically all windows. Bones lasted two days in it, declared it a fishbowl, and now uses it as storage.

He sits. Chekov stays standing; Bones isn’t sure he could sit if he wanted, the kid’s so tense. It’s starting to make McCoy worry. “Chekov, what’s going on?”

“It is confidential, yes? Anything we discuss?”

Now McCoy is really worried. “Unless you’re planning on hurting yourself or someone else, yes. Seriously, Chekov, what is going on?”

Chekov glances towards the open door. McCoy sighs and hits the close button on his desk. The door hisses shut and for a moment, they just look at each other. Then Chekov gathers his courage and speaks.

“I have entered into a relationship. With Lieutenant Sulu.”

_That’s what this is about?_ McCoy almost yells, but stops himself when he realizes this is supposed to be news to him. Luckily, Chekov takes his stunned reaction for shock.

“Only after I turned eighteen,” he rushes to clarify, and McCoy nods dumbly.

“Okay. Uh, good. But not sure what that has to do with me.”

“Because...” Chekov looks down pleadingly. “You and the captain… your relationship…”

_I guess we really are the worst kept secret in the fleet_. “Me and the captain… Chekov, are you looking for relationship advice? Because let me tell you, me and the captain are about the worst source you could look to.”

“You are not!” Chekov protests. “You are able to be together, work together.”

“So can Uhura and Spock. And wouldn’t you much rather be talking to her right now? Shit, you could be having this whole conversation in Russian.”

Chekov looks horrified. “Lieutenant Uhura is a _lady_ , Doctor. I could not speak to her about such things.”

_OH_ , McCoy thinks, _this is THAT kind of talk_. “So this is about sex.”

“No!” Chekov pauses. “Yes. Somewhat. If it is not appropriate, Doctor, I will leave.” Chekov sounds miserable at the prospect. McCoy sighs.

“It’s not inappropriate, kid, I am your doctor. I’d rather you come to me than try to figure it out yourself. But in this case I think we’re gonna need some extra help.” He pops open the secret compartment at the bottom of his desk and pulls out a bottle of scotch and two glasses. “I’d say you’re underage, but after your birthday party that’s kind of a moot point. So sit, and talk.”

Chekov takes the glass gratefully and finally sits across from McCoy. “This is my…first relationship. With a man. Really, my first real relationship with anyone.”

“Uh-huh,” Bones says. “Well, I imagine you had other things to do, what with starting the Academy while you still had your milk teeth.”

“My milk teeth?”

“It’s – never mind. You’re a virgin?”

Chekov blushes. “There was a girl at the Academy and we almost…it is a long story.” McCoy raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press.

“And you and Lieutenant Sulu…”

Chekov blushes even more furiously. “We have kissed and…touched. And he performed…” his voice died out.

“Oral sex,” McCoy supplies. Chekov nods. “You haven’t reciprocated yet.” Chekov nods again. “Because you don’t want to? Don’t know how to?”

“I do!” Chekov’s answer is quick and sure. “Want to. That, and…”

“Penetrative sex,” McCoy guesses.

“Yes. I have…done research on the mechanics.”

McCoy can’t help himself, he snorts. “Of course you have.” Chekov has the self-awareness to smile back.

“The first time, we had been waiting for five weeks – he made me wait, until my birthday,” and at this Bones has to tamp down a laugh, because Jim would be dying if he were here, “And that night, once we…started, I did not have time to think. There was once more after that, but then Hikaru – I mean, Lieutenant Sulu – was planet-side for a week and I started extra rotations in engineering, and I had time to start thinking, and now I am, how you say, too much in my brain.”

“That’ll kill ya every time,” Bones says sagely, and Chekov sighs.

“I don’t know what to do. He is experienced, and beautiful, and sexy -”

“Hey now,” McCoy says, putting up a hand.

“And I am a skinny little teenager.” Chekov looks at his drink despondently. “How can I hope to make him happy?”

_Oh, he’s in deep_ , McCoy thinks. _Way deep_. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you already do. I mean, you’re in a relationship, aren’t you? And Hikaru Sulu doesn’t strike me as the type to get involved in a situation like this on a whim.”

“That is true. But what if I am awful at it?”

McCoy raises an eyebrow. “Chekov, something tells me you’ve never failed at anything in your life.” Chekov scowls.

“This is different. This is not math or engineering or physics. This is…” Pavel almost says _love_. “A relationship.”

“Kid -” McCoy’s about to give him a generic pep-talk, a _you’ll be fine, you’ll figure it out_ , but realizes if Chekov had enough courage to come to him about this, it was the least McCoy could do to show him the same. “Kid, what I’m about to tell you – if you ever repeat it again, this whole conversation will be for naught, because I will personally castrate you, understood?”

Chekov’s eyes go wide. “Yes, sir.”

“You know I was married?” Chekov nods. “She was my high-school sweetheart. We got married when I was 19, divorced when I was 26. I enlisted not two months later. So when me and Jim – I mean, the captain – oh, whatever, when me and Jim started our...relationship,” and he makes a pinched face because it sounds inane to classify what they have as a simple ‘relationship’, but he needs to call it something, “I didn’t have any experience being with a man. And Jim…well, you know.”

“I’ve heard the stories,” Pavel breathes, and McCoy rolls his eyes because Chekov’s got that look of awe underclassmen always got when they discussed the love adventures of James T. Kirk, and because Bones knows the truth, that only a handful of those stories are actually true. But that’s Jim’s secret to tell, not his. Besides, it gives him something to mock Jim about.

“My point is, we were in totally different places and we figured it out. And now…”

“And now you are happy together,” Chekov finishes with a little smile, and McCoy rolls his eyes but has to concede the point.

“Just go with your gut,” he responds. “We all trust you to fly us through space in this tin can, so you must have decent instincts. Experiment a little, see what works. And as for the lieutenant…talk to him, Pavel. And don’t assume because he’s got some experience he’s not nervous. This is new for him, too.”

Chekov looks up, surprised, like this never would have occurred to him, and McCoy has to laugh. _Some genius_ , he thinks.

“I – thank you, Doctor,” Chekov says softly. “I am very grateful for this.”

McCoy grunts. “Yeah, well. Anything I can do to keep the crew in one piece and moderately sane. Now if we’re done with all the touch-feely talk…”

Chekov smiles and stands. “Do not worry, Doctor. If anyone asks, I will tell them we discussed important medical things. _Manly_ medical things.”

“You better.”

Chekov steps away from the desk, is about to go when he turns back. “Doctor?”

“Yeah?”

“You…” He pauses. “You love the captain?”

McCoy is taken aback for a second at the question. It’s not something he and Jim discuss, not in so many words, at least, and certainly not something he discusses with others.

He finds himself nodding his head anyway.

Pavel nods back. It was the answer he expected. “I think…” he swallows, looks to the ground before looking back up at McCoy. “I think I love Hikaru.”

_No shit_ , Bones almost says, but bites his tongue at the last second. Chekov looks at him expectantly. “Well, kid, I guess my advice stands. Trust your instincts and talk to him. I’m no love expert, but I think you’re going to be happy with the answer.”

Chekov smiles, a small, hopeful smile, and nods again. “Thank you, Doctor,” he says, and leaves. McCoy exhales.

“Not how I expected to spend my day,” he mumbles.

“Talking to yourself, Bones?”

“Wha –“ McCoy startles, slams his knee into the underside of his desk. “ _OW_ \- damn it, Jim, what the hell are you doing lurking like that?”

Kirk looks put out. “I do not _lurk_ , Bones. Starfleet captains do not _lurk_.”

“Fine, what do you call hovering around in the shadows?”

“I came by to see you, saw the door was closed. Everything all right with Chekov?”

“He’s fine,” McCoy says shortly, rubbing his sore knee. “My knee’s killing me, thanks for asking.”

“Aw,” Jim coos, and comes around the desk, bending down to massages McCoy’s knee. Bones leans back, relaxes into the touch. “What did he want?”

For just a moment, McCoy thinks about telling him. “Sorry, Jim. You know better than that.”

Kirk does, so he nods and drops it. He gives McCoy’s knee one last squeeze and stands. “You almost ready to head out?”

“Is it that time?” McCoy glances at his chrono and is surprised to see it’s the end of his shift. _Time flies when you’re giving relationship advice_ , he thinks with a chuckle. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

Kirk offers McCoy a hand up. Bones takes it, and pauses. Turns it over, studies it for a second.

“Bones? You okay?”

McCoy looks up at Jim’s quizzical face, at the man he followed into the black, the man he’d follow anywhere, right down to hell if he asked. “You know I love you, right?” he says quietly.

Kirk’s whole face goes slack with surprise, not at the thought that Bones loves him – he knows that, knows it deep in his soul – but because they don’t actually say it. “Seriously, what the hell did the two of you talk about?”

Bones throws his hands up in the air. “You know, I try to be romantic and I get sass in return. It serves me right – hrmph!”

Kirk cuts off McCoy’s rant with a kiss. When he pulls away, they’re both breathing heavy. “Yeah, Bones, I know,” Kirk says, and McCoy smiles.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Computer, location of Lieutenant Sulu.”

_Lieutenant Sulu is in his quarters_ , the computer chirps back.

Chekov grins. “Chekov to Sulu.”

“Sulu here.”

“Ah, Lieutenant. I was hoping you were free for a visit.”

“I just walked in from fencing practice and need to take a shower.” There’s a pause. “You can let yourself in.”

Chekov’s vision goes blurry for a second as the thought of Hikaru in the shower sends all his blood flooding south. “Da – yes. Yes. I will be right there.” He flips his communicator shut, thinks about playing it cool, and then takes off down the hall at a full run.

Sulu’s quarters are quiet except for the sound of the shower. Chekov stands in the living area, thinking.

_He would not have invited you in if he did not want you here_ , he thinks to himself.

_But what if he just meant his quarters, not his shower._

Chekov chews his lip.

His gut tells him it was both. And McCoy said he should trust his gut.

_He is going to be out of there before anything happens if you don’t hurry up_ , his brain helpfully provides, and the thought startles Chekov out of his stupor. He yanks off his uniform, tossing it in a pile by Hikaru’s dirty gym clothes. The bathroom is warm and steamy.

He reaches out, opens the shower door, and slides inside, slides his arms around Sulu’s torso. For a split second Sulu tenses in surprise but relaxes back into him.

“I was hoping I would meet you in here,” he says softly, and Chekov grins.

He doesn’t say anything back, just turns Sulu around so he can kiss him properly. Sulu moans his approval, opening to Chekov’s tongue, and pulls Chekov closer to share the water stream. The heat is almost unbearable, and Chekov can’t believe the feeling of it, how responsive Hikaru is to him, how much he wants more. He _needs_ more.

He slams the water off.

“I wasn’t finished,” Sulu protests, but it’s not even half-hearted, not when Chekov is pressing him up against the shower wall.

“I don’t care. I want you in bed, now,” he growls, and the feeling of Sulu shuddering against him does wondrous things to his body.

“Yeah, okay,” Sulu breathes. “Bed now, shower later. Got it.”

Chekov pulls Sulu out of the bathroom, doesn’t even bother to towel them off, just shoves Sulu on to the bed. Sulu’s got this look of stunned wonder on his face, like he doesn’t know what he did to warrant this reaction but he’s not going to fight the flow, and his hands slide against Chekov’s slippery back until they are face to face and they can kiss again. The kiss is hot and unforgiving and just shy of too much, and when Chekov slips one leg between Sulu’s and knocks his knee up, Sulu spreads out under him.

“Not that I’m complaining, but – _oh, shit_ ,” he gasps as Pavel curls a tongue around his earlobe, “but what has gotten into you?”

“ _You_ ,” Chekov breathes, and drags his teeth down Sulu’s earlobe, delighting in the desperate sounds it pulls out of him. “ _You_ got into me.” He slides his other leg over so he’s between Sulu’s, presses his hips down so that his erection rubs against Sulu’s. “ _You_ did this to me.”

_“Jesus_ , Pavel,” Hikaru hisses, and then Chekov’s on his back, and Sulu’s mouth is on his jaw, his neck. He grabs Sulu’s ass, yanking him down closer, and the friction makes them both shudder. Sulu extracts himself from Chekov’s grasp and starts to slither down, his mouth leaving a wet trail down Chekov’s chest, his stomach until he –

“Hikaru, wait,” Chekov manages to get out.

Sulu looks up in surprise and Chekov takes advantage of it to flip Sulu back over onto his back. They’re sideways on the bed now, but Chekov doesn’t care, just straddles Sulu and kisses him. Sulu’s broken out of his stupor and is pushing for the upper hand but Chekov pins his arms down, twists his feet under Sulu’s knees to keep him still. Sulu bucks his hips, testing, and Chekov sways but doesn’t give.

“Ah, be good,” he purrs instead, and finds that he barely recognizes his own voice.

“Or what?” Sulu’s voice is different too, low and raspy, and Chekov thrills at the challenge in his tone. Sulu’s eyes are all black, pupils blown wide by lust, and Chekov can’t believe he would ever have hesitated in this, ever given up the opportunity to see Hikaru taken apart under him. He kisses him, hard.

“Or I won’t do this,” he whispers, slips down to his knees, and takes Sulu in his mouth.

It’s messy, and a little awkward, and not the most sound, mechanics-wise, but judging from the way Sulu moans and squirms and actually howls Chekov’s name when he comes, Chekov considers his first attempt at oral sex a success.

“Holy fuck,” Sulu gasps as Chekov pulls himself up next to him.

Chekov grins. “Do I get a passing grade?”

“Holy _fuck_ ,” Sulu repeats.

“I will take that as a yes.”

“It’s a yes. It’s whatever you want it to be because _holy fuck_ , Pavel, where did that come from?”

“Well, when two people like each other, sometimes they touch – _ow_!” Chekov rubs his side where Sulu pinched him. “Keep doing that and I will start thinking you did not like it!”

He squeaks as Sulu’s suddenly on top of him, pinning his arms down above his head. “Oh, I liked it,” Sulu says, and that voice is back. It’s not fair, that voice, how it makes Chekov feel helpless against the older man. “I liked it a lot.” Sulu shifts his weight down, forces Chekov’s legs wider, and the movement drags Chekov’s erection drags along Sulu’s firm stomach. Chekov can’t help the needy whimper that comes out, doesn’t want to, not when he feels like he’s on fire, so aroused it almost hurts.

“Hikaru,” he whines.

“I know, baby,” Hikaru whispers, his tongue moving in soft circles around Chekov’s ear, down his jaw. One hand snakes down, strokes the inside of Pavel’s right thigh. Chekov cries out, tries to force his leg down so Sulu will be forced to touch elsewhere, but Hikaru makes a tsk sound and pins his leg back down with his knee, skims his fingers along the sensitive skin in the seam between thigh and groin. “Be good,” he teases, using Chekov’s own words against him, and Pavel doesn’t know whether to curse or cry.

“Hikaru, _bolze moi, pozhaluysta_ ,” he begs, doesn’t even realize he’s slipped back into his native language until Sulu bites down on his neck, just shy of painful. “ _Ah_! Hikaru, please!”

He feels Sulu’s chuckle against his skin. “You wanted to tease,” he murmurs.

“I didn’t mean to,” Chekov gasps out, and Sulu laughs outright.

“Yes, you did. And I liked it. I liked when you took control. Made me crazy.” Hikaru licks up his neck, his chin, his tongue obscenely flat against Pavel’s skin. “But now it’s my turn.”

“ _Oh, fuck_.”

“You want me to touch you?” he rumbles in Chekov’s ear, his breath coming in hot pants, and Pavel nods so hard he makes himself dizzy, moans when Sulu releases his wrist. The free hand mirrors its mate, strokes the inside of Pavel’s left thigh, forces it down, pulling the hip muscle open. “Anything else?” he teases softly, and Pavel cries out in frustration, thrusts his hips into the air.

“I need - ” he starts but he can’t get it out, can’t make the words form right. The soft stroking of Hikaru’s thumbs against his pelvic bone is maddening. “Hikaru, please -”

“Tell me, baby.” Sulu licks at his mouth, bites his lip. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need you to suck me.” The words spill out before Pavel can censor himself, but he’s too far gone to be embarrassed. “God, Hikaru, I need you to make me come.”

Sulu moans, kisses him roughly. “So fucking sexy,” he growls, and then he’s down on his knees next to the bed, yanking Pavel down so he’s closer to the edge. One hand wraps around his erection and Pavel almost comes right then, arching off the bed with a howl, but Sulu grips him tightly, holds it off. “Not yet, Pavel. I’m not done with you.”

Chekov moans, his hands digging helplessly into the bed sheets. “Please,” he begs, because he doesn’t know what else to do.

Sulu strokes softly, and Chekov whimpers because the pressure’s not enough, he needs more. “Say it again,” Sulu commands.

“Please,” Chekov howls, but Sulu just frowns.

“Not that.” He sucks a hard mark into Pavel’s thigh. “Say it again, Pavel.”

“I don’t know what you want, I don’t know,” Chekov babbles, and God, he’s never been so frustrated, so on edge in his life. “Please Hikaru, just do it.”

“Ah, closer,” Sulu says, and rewards him with a quick suck around the head. Chekov gasps, twists up into Hikaru’s fist, suddenly realizes what Sulu is asking for.

“Ah, _bolze moi_ , suck me off, Hikaru, make me come,” he blurts out, and Hikaru flashes a grin, full of pure deviance, and Pavel knows he’s gotten it right. Then Hikaru takes him in, a hot, wet heat unlike anything else in the universe, and Pavel loses all ability to do anything but feel. Hikaru’s tongue is doing wicked things and Pavel can’t help but grab at him, pulling on that thick, dark hair.

Then Sulu dips down lower, relaxes his throat, and releases his hand, and Chekov explodes into a thousand pieces, flying apart so far he’s sure he can touch the cosmos.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He’s vaguely aware someone is saying his name.

“Pavel? You there?”

He pries his eyes open, sees Sulu above him, looking equal parts concerned and pleased.

“You went somewhere far away,” Sulu says, his lips twitching as he fights a smile. “I was starting to get a little worried.”

“I have never come like that in my life,” Pavel says by way of explanation, and Sulu stops fighting it and grins.

“Glad to be of service.”

“Ah, I should be thanking you,” Chekov teases, pulling him down for a kiss. Sulu comes happily, settling his weight down at Chekov’s side, one leg looped over Pavel’s, and relaxes into the kiss. It’s slower now, less frantic, but sweeter, and Chekov feels the warmth deep in his chest. He lets Hikaru break the kiss and pull him up to the top of the bed.

“You staying?”

Chekov is surprised by the doubt in Sulu’s voice, and he realizes the doctor was right, Sulu was nervous about this too. “Yes, of course,” he says, and when Hikaru smiles, Pavel can’t help but think it’s as beautiful as the stars.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It’s a few days later, and Chekov’s leaving the mess, snack in hand, when he comes face to face with Dr. McCoy and the captain. “Ensign!” Kirk booms. McCoy just nods.

“Captain, Doctor,” Chekov says politely.

“On your way to engineering?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We appreciate you helping out down there,” Kirk says, and Chekov smiles.

“It is no problem, sir. Mr. Scott’s experiment is very nearly finished.”

Kirk nods, slaps his shoulder – Chekov has learned this is his way of saying goodbye, and has schooled himself not to flinch – and starts off down the hall. McCoy just nods, and follows.

“Doctor?”

McCoy stops. “Ensign?”

“Speaking of experiments…the one you and I discussed?”

McCoy’s brow knots up and he’s about to ask what in tarnation are you talking about when he sees the small smile playing at Chekov’s lips, and it clicks. “The experiment,” he repeats lamely.

“Yes, sir. I implemented some of your recommendations and the results were…positive.”

Now McCoy’s fighting the urge to grin but Jim’s at his back, looking perplexed, so he fixes his face in a scowl. “Just positive?” he asks.

“Very positive,” Chekov retorts, and he’s smiling too hard to correct his speech, his v coming out a heavy w. “Excellent, in fact.”

McCoy coughs to cover his laugh. “Ah, good. Glad to hear it.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Chekov nods his head to the captain and disappears around the corner.

McCoy can feel Kirk staring at him. When he turns, Jim’s looking about as confused as he’s ever seen him.

“Bones!”

“Jim!” McCoy’s openly mocking him, and Jim huffs in frustration.

“ _Seriously!_ ”

“Seriously what, Jim?” McCoy’s walking away now, mostly to annoy Jim, but also to hide the smile on his face. Kirk scurries after him.

“ _What the hell did you two talk about?_ ”


End file.
